Not Easily Wrapped
by LizzieV
Summary: Approximately five years after the series' end. Sam/Bailey established relationship. Err...established marriage. Christmas-related. SBR, SABER, etc.
1. Departure

Disclaimer: I don't own them nor am I making any money through their use. It's been ten years for geez' sake, I doubt anyone's paying attention. Except for **finnishvixen**, this one's for you!

A/N: There's rarely much substance to my stories. This one is no exception. Consider yourself warned. On a side note, did you know "unwrappable" isn't a word? Seriously?

* * *

**Not Easily Wrapped**

Samantha Waters-Malone was not expecting this Christmas to be especially jolly. Tom's parents had once again coerced Chloe to spend her holiday break at their estate with the promise of snowy horseback rides and cutting down her own Christmas tree. Bailey was sad to see his youngest daughter go, but smartly stayed silent through the entire packing process and teary airport goodbyes. He'd already arranged for a few holiday packages to arrive at Chloe's grandparents' home for her to open on Christmas Day.

Compounding the fact that Chloe would be in New England for the next week, Bailey's oldest daughters had turned down his invitation to spend Christmas with him in Georgia. They both had families of their own now and decided to celebrate the holidays with their mom in California. He couldn't blame them; Frances and Ari had flown down last year and they all had a memorable season celebrating his only grandson's first Christmas. Now the house would feel decidedly empty without the laughter of children and family.

Malone didn't even have work to keep his mind occupied. After vesting and taking an early retirement from the Bureau, he had done what all good high-ranking federal authorities do: take a perfunctory board position at one of the leading private security consulting firms. They paid him good money to come in a few times a month and smoke Cohibas with the boys. The firm's board had adjourned for December and Bailey had already finished all the little fixer-upper projects he'd planned to complete on their farmhouse. He even hung the Christmas lights along the many eaves of their home even after explaining to Sam its pointlessness since no one drove the twenty minutes out of Atlanta on a light-seeing tour. It did, however, turn out to be well worth it to see the smile on his wife's face once dusk had settled in.

Sam's work situation was even more fluid than her husband's. Of course she'd reignited her photography career since leaving the Bureau and her work was currently exhibited nationally… under an assumed name (better safe than sorry). The other side of Dr. Waters-Malone—the forensic psychologist side—still frequently made appearances at training seminars for various federal academies and select criminal justice-inclined conventions. She even agreed to consult on a few major crime cases over the years, never getting involved enough to take her away from the people she loved. Needless to say, the public speaking had slowed down after Thanksgiving and she'd taken enough photographs of winter's barrenness to last a lifetime.

After a silent car ride back from the airport, Sam immediately exited the vehicle and quickly made her way inside. Bailey didn't know how to handle this situation; even after five years of marriage and almost two decades of intimate interactions he still questioned what to do when Sam was upset. Especially when he wasn't the cause.

He took off his gloves and placed them on the entry way table. His hasty-made plan was to find Sam and talk through her melancholy mood. He'd even resort to Christmas Eve reservations at Vincenzo's if it'd take her mind off of Chloe's absence. And that was no small task since they'd been booked for their Feast of the Seven Fishes since _last_ Christmas. He was already mulling over what favors he'd be calling in to arrange a table for two when he came to a sudden stop outside the downstairs guest bathroom. By the sounds of her gagging, Sam's emotional distress was physically manifesting itself.

"Sam honey," Bailey knocked lightly on the restroom door. "Can I come in?" He didn't wait for permission, instead entering the space and kneeling next to his wife on the cold tile. It seemed the worst of the nausea was over and the blonde was reduced to dry heaving. Nevertheless, Bailey held her hair back and soothingly stroked her spine. "What happened, sweetheart?"

"Bad lunch," was all Sam managed to croak out. They'd stopped for a quick bite at Chloe's favorite soul food joint near the airport before dropping her off. Both he and Sam had ordered the house special—catfish—and it had been spectacular as usual. It heightened Bailey's cause for concern to see such a violent reaction to the meal.

"I'm sorry." He kept stroking her back until he was sure she was done. When she stood up to wash out her mouth, he let her know he'd be waiting in the kitchen with a glass of ginger ale.

* * *

Bailey had put Sam to bed for a late afternoon nap once her stomach was settled. This new-found nausea put a slight damper on his plans to cheer his wife out of her sorrowful stupor. As he prepared a bland pasta dish and salad for dinner, he contemplated how he'd broach the subject.

He didn't have to worry about it too long. After Sam woke and set the table, they settled into their small dinner fare. "Feeling better?" Bailey questioned hopefully.

"Much. And I want to apologize for being such a downer the past couple of days. It's just that Chloe's going to be applying to colleges next year and now I'm only going to get one more Christmas to spend with her before she moves out." Sam absently twirled some pasta onto her fork waiting for Bailey to comment on her yet unrealized worries.

"I can make a few calls and have any university applications she puts in turned down. That way we can keep her here forever." Bailey speared a cucumber and slowly chewed as he looked over at Sam. He knew she could tell he was partly serious in his suggestion.

"Tempting." She paused to take a bite and continued, "I just don't want her to be sucked into spending _next_ Christmas with Tom's parents. I want it to be special, you know?"

"It will be, I promise." Bailey chuckled softly, "if we have to fake a blizzard to do it, we'll make next Christmas spectacular. I've already guilted Frannie and Ari to bring everyone here next year."

"Good. Having Baby Tony here will exponentially increase Chloe's interest in staying home for the holidays. She's in love with her little nephew." By the faraway look and slight smirk emerging, Sam gathered that Chloe wasn't the only one smitten with the newest bundle of joy.

Bailey reached across the table and linked their hands together. "Tell you what, let's take advantage of this empty house." Even after years of hearing it, the deep timbre of Bailey Malone's voice still sent shivers down her spine.

"What about the dishes?" The blonde beauty took her free hand and pushed some stray strands of hair behind her ear, cracking a pleased smile.

"They'll still be here in the morning."

* * *

Bailey awoke from a sound sleep to find the other side of the bed empty. He reached over and grabbed the alarm clock, holding it inches from his face until he discerned it was a little after three a.m. After shaking the grogginess from his head he heard the muffled sounds of Sam's heaving from the bathroom. Leaping out of bed, he went to her.

"How long has this been going on?" Bailey sank down to her level. Rubbing her back while she was retching over the toilet was becoming all too familiar.

"Just a few minutes. I didn't want to wake you," Sam managed between bouts. "I'm sorry."

"Samantha, don't you apologize." He began to doubt that it was the catfish that was causing Sam's discomfort.

The contents of her stomach emptied, the good doctor eased up slowly and made her way to the sink as her husband dutifully flushed away any evidence of her illness. "I think it's just all the stress made me susceptible to a twenty-four hour bug or something."

"Either way I'd feel a lot better if you made an appointment to get checked out." Bailey's tiredness made it impossible for him to keep the concern out of his voice. But hoped it would help convince his wife to take his advice.

"I'll call in the morning." She spit the Listerine she'd been swishing and rinsed the sink clean before turning to her husband and kissing him gently. She plastered a half-hearted smile on her face for his sake and mumbled, "Let's go to bed."

* * *

_The next morning…_

Sam stepped out the front doors of her nurse practitioner's office and immediately took out her cell phone. It rang twice before it was picked up.

"Hey, can you meet me for lunch at Maggie's on 26th? I have something important to tell you." After agreeing to meet in fifteen, Sam got in her car and wiped an errant tear from the corner of her eye.

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A/N: The second and final part of this story should be up within the next day or so. I just needed to break them up and post... for my own sanity.


	2. Arrivals

Sam had taken a seat near the window to better watch for her dining companion. It was soon apparent that it didn't matter where she sat for she was so lost in thought it took a hand to her shoulder to bring her back to reality. Luckily, that hand belonged to Grace Alvarez.

"Hey sweetie, I got out as fast as I could. It sounded serious, are you okay?" Grace bent down and gave her a quick hug. "You don't look so hot."

"Thanks Grace. I always love hearing that." The sarcasm of the comment was cut with a genuine smile for seeing her good friend once again. They tried to meet up as often as their schedules would permit (Grace's the least accommodating of the pair) which translated to a few times a month. As Grace took the seat opposite her, Sam truly realized what their friendship had meant to her over the years they'd been acquainted…

"I'm pregnant." Grace was in the process of putting her purse on the vacant chair next to her and nearly dropped it to the floor with Sam's confession.

"Geez, honey. You can't just lay something like that on a person. Thank goodness I didn't have any water in my mouth—," Grace gave off the impression of being winded from speaking so rapidly. "What I mean to say is, 'Mazel tov!'" She looked over at Sam to see how her congratulations would be accepted. It wasn't promising. It looked like her friend was holding back tears. "What is it? The hormones?"

"No, Gracie. Well maybe a little," Sam didn't know how much of her judgment was being clouded by the extreme change her body was going through. Either way, it felt real to her. "It's just that I'm scared Bailey won't be happy."

"Why wouldn't he be happy? He loves Chloe. Even when she was so young he's always been the doting type." Grace knew Bailey hadn't always been the ideal father, but he'd made good on his second chance with Sam's daughter.

"It's not like we were trying. We haven't really even talked about it." The blonde sighed and was torn between continuing or taking a bite of the delicious looking slice of pecan pie she'd ordered on a whim. "I didn't think I needed to. I'm too old to be having a child!" It felt good to vocalize her fear.

"Whoa now. You've got to be kidding me. Too old?" Grace sounded almost offended at the thought.

"Chloe's going to be going off to college soon and I'm going to be changing diapers? It doesn't seem right," Sam reasoned, slightly defeated.

"So what you're saying is that you think I was too old when I had Jason? Because, honey, you're about the age I was when I got pregnant with him." The feisty brunette gave her friend one of her famous stern looks.

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all Grace. You know that." Sam knew that Grace was in better shape now than before she had her two kids. She ran half marathons twice a year and swore the two boys—now eight and five—kept her young at heart.

"I know that. But I want _you_ to know that. So you can hear how utterly ridiculous it sounds." Grace threw her hands in the air to emphasize her point.

"How am I supposed to tell Bailey? It's not like I can put this in a box and stick a bow on it." Sam knew her problem was not an "if" anymore but a "when."

"Sweetie, any way you tell him he is going to be the happiest man in the world. Trust me." Grace Alvarez had known Bailey longer than she'd known Sam. And she knew this news would put him on cloud nine. "Now do you mind if I order some lunch? Pregnant people make me hungry."

* * *

Bailey was sitting at home practically reduced to twiddling his thumbs. He'd already watched countless hours of mind-numbing reality television waiting for Sam to come home and rescue him. But she texted she was having lunch with Grace which would inevitably delay her arrival. He'd been mulling over ways to cheer Sam up (Vincenzo's was out, "fish" was definitely a no-no around Sam as of late) when an idea sprang to mind. He pulled out his cell and dialed. The call seemed destined to go to voicemail when it was finally picked up with a rather surprised "hello?"

"Hey Angel, it's Bailey." The man never got tired of the slight uneasiness his wife's friend seemed to harbor towards him. He knew she loved him, but Angel never forgot to remind him what would happen if he hurt Sam in any way. Let's just say there wouldn't be a body to find…

"What's wrong?" Angel put on her concerned voice.

"Why does something have to be wrong for me to call you?" He thought he'd have a little fun with her.

"Bailey." Angel felt that was response enough. The unconvinced tone earned a chuckle from the man.

"I was just wondering what you were doing for the holidays?" He didn't want to reveal his plan until he was sure it was an option.

"Jason's parents were supposed to fly down and spend Christmas through New Year's with us. But they got snowed in at the airport and decided to take the refund and rescheduled to come see us in February. Personally, I think they made up the entire story and are spending the holidays in Bora Bora." You could hear her smirk through the phone.

"Perfect. How about I fly you guys down here then and you spend New Year's with us? Sam's been a little under the weather lately and I think some after-Christmas shopping with her beautiful best friend will do her some good."

"Beautiful, huh? Mere flattery doesn't work on me, Bailey. At least not since getting married."

"Actually I was hoping you'd help me throw a little New Year's get-together. Chloe's coming back on the 29th and I wanted to get the gang assembled to help her ring in what might be her last year living in Atlanta."

"I can't believe time is flying by so quickly. What are you thinking for the party?" Angel let the slightest bit of intrigue slip into her voice.

"Engine 23 Fire House for old time's sake? The girl isn't too old to go down the slide a few more times, right?" Bailey still kept the place active even though no one had lived there in a while.

"Perfect. Let me just make sure Jason's in and I'll call you later." Bailey heard the click of his wife's keys in the front door.

"Hey, Angel? Let's keep this a secret from Sam as long as we can until we know everything's going to work out." Angel agreed and said her goodbyes in time for Bailey to slip the phone back in to his pocket and greet his wife in the foyer.

* * *

The last few days passed slowly for the couple. It was not for lack of activities; just yesterday the pair had gone to see a production of "The Nutcracker" and the day before that had been their turn to host the annual neighborhood trivia contest. Sam and Bailey placed second (those Nelsons from two doors down were the reigning champions three years counting). The slowness was a result of the awkwardness the two faced when _not_ in the company of others. The quiet moments at home where Bailey was too afraid to confront his wife about her mild turn towards depression and Sam was too afraid to tell her husband the true source of her mal mood.

And here they were, Christmas Eve, about an hour before they'd have to leave for Midnight Mass. Alone together.

They were already dressed for services and decided to take a little rest before they had to go. Bailey took the corner seat on the plush couch in the living room while Sam snuggled in next to him, fitting perfectly under his outstretched arm.

"You know, darling, it's tradition for us to open one gift tonight," he whispered into her hair. The rumble of his voice soothed Sam to close her eyes.

"Mmm, I haven't been thinking much about traditions lately. And I'm far too comfortable right here to get up and get your present." She turned her head until her cheek was firmly pressed against his chest.

"That's just fine, I'll go first then." From nowhere Bailey pulled a tiny box—immaculately wrapped—and held it in his free hand right in front of Sam's face for whenever she decided to open her eyes. The rustle of paper was too tempting for the blonde to resist for too long. She slowly extricated herself from her husband and took the box in her hand, carefully undoing the bow on top.

"Aww, honey. Thank you." Bailey appreciated the sparkle that came to her blue eyes as she unwrapped the package. He began to smile knowing that the token within was perfect for the situation they currently found themselves in.

Sam opened the box and took out the jewelry case. Within its blue velvet she uncovered a gold pendant with the image of St. Anne, patron saint of mothers. She looked questioningly into Bailey's eyes. Could he possibly know or was this just a relic in honor of Chloe?

He ended her torment. "Sweetheart, I may not have been around a lot when Janet was pregnant but that doesn't mean I didn't notice the symptoms. How far along are you?" He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled Sam closer to his body.

"About six weeks. So you're okay with this?" Her voice wasn't as strong as she'd like it to be. At least she was keeping the tears at bay for the time being.

"Okay with it? Sammie, I'm over the moon." He kissed the top of her head. "I love you and the little person growing inside." He rubbed along her tummy, though it'd be quite awhile before he'd feel anything moving. "I can't wait to teach our little boy or girl to play ball and the difference between Puccini and Verdi." He chuckled deeply. Sam turned in his embrace until their faces were mere inches from each other. What she found looking into the smiling face of her partner was not fear nor disgust, but unconditional devotion. She closed her eyes and brought her lips to his, feeling his strong fingers dance across her cheeks and brow. Never again would she doubt this man. She pulled away and placed two more kisses along his chin.

"Now the only question remaining is how are we going to tell Chlo?" Sam looked to the person that—for a vast majority of her life—held all the answers. He looked right back at her, seemingly perplexed until it hit him.

"I've got an idea." He grinned that devilishly handsome grin. "Got any plans for New Year's Eve?"

**-The End-**

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_A/N 2: It has been way too long since I've seen all the episodes and Netflix is not helping (how long is a "short wait?"), so I apologize for the blatant disregard of canon. I think. I don't remember if the firehouse still exists, if Bailey's ex is still alive, or what Grace's first son's name is…giving it all an educated guess. All I wanted was for these two to have an enjoyable Christmas with the promise of many more to come. _


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